


Deleted Scene: Once Upon a Time

by lyryk (s_k)



Series: Like Wind in My Sails [6]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-22
Updated: 2008-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-27 04:05:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16211051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_k/pseuds/lyryk
Summary: Takes place the morning after James and Jack spend the night in the boat.





	Deleted Scene: Once Upon a Time

Jack pours a liberal amount of rum into his black coffee before sitting down in the galley at the table closest to the stove. Trust James to be right about him catching a cold. He sniffles, feeling somewhat sorry for himself. 

‘Are you feeling all right, Captain?’ Groves says from across the table. 

Jack looks up, eyes watering with the effort of keeping his nose from running. ‘Right as rain, mate. Got good news for you. Keep this to Gillette and yourself. The Commodore on board the _Pearl_ is not the Commodore. Savvy?’

Groves nods, eyes shining. ‘You’re sure of this, Captain?’

‘Sure as the _Pearl_ ’s my ship, lad.’

The lieutenant nods again, his eyes trusting. ‘What’s the Commodore’s plan, Captain?’

Jack shrugs. ‘Leverage, mate. For now, just leverage.’

‘Isn’t he – ’ Groves breaks off as Clarke enters, and Jack’s heart does a painful little wobble in his chest at the sight of the familiar figure, the hair left unbound, and Jack is reminded irresistibly of the way those dark strands had been strewn wantonly over a white pillow in the house in Morant Bay as James had slept peacefully in Jack’s safe house after his ordeal on Zima’s ship. 

He scowls and drains his mug as Clarke sits down next to him. ‘Morning, Jack, Theo,’ he nods politely. 

‘Sir.’ Groves nods at him, and Jack merely grunts and leaves, swiping his sleeve against his streaming nose and comforting himself with a small grin at the thought of what James would have to say about that.

He takes the helm that morning but is bullied by Anamaria into retiring to his cabin with a bowl of steaming broth when he can no longer hold back from coughing. She looks in on him after a while, surprised to find him poring over a book. ‘Jack, I thought I told you to go to bed.’

‘Stop trying to bully me, Ana.’ Jack grins up at her. ‘’Snot working.’

She sits down next to him, dark eyes surveying him thoughtfully. ‘Mind telling me what you look so confoundedly happy about?’

‘Found James, didn’t I?’

‘Did you?’ she says, startled. ‘So which one of them is it?’

‘The one with Zima,’ he admits. ‘And keep that to yourself for now.’ 

Her eyes widen. ‘Is it safe for him to be there, Jack?’

Jack rubs wearily at his forehead. ‘No. Course it isn’t. But he’s got to do it, doesn’t he?’

‘That I do,’ a voice says from the door. Jack leaps up, cold forgotten, as James enters the cabin. 

Anamaria stands as well, grinning. ‘Commodore.’

 

‘Ana,’ James grins back. 

 

‘Back to your duties, First Mate,’ Jack says firmly, eyes on James. 

She laughs. ‘I’m going, I’m going.’ 

‘James, what’re you doing here?’ Jack demands, nearly knocking James over with the force of his bear-hug. 

James laughs, hugging him back. ‘Couldn’t stay away, Captain Sparrow.’ He pulls back, frowning. ‘Jack, you look terrible.’ He lays the back of his hand on Jack’s neck and pulls it back in dismay. ‘You’re burning.’

‘’Sjust a cold, James.’

‘Into bed,’ James says firmly, taking him by the elbow. ‘Now.’

‘Now that’s my kind of talk,’ Jack says happily, waggling his eyebrows. 

James settles for rolling his eyes in response, and leads him to his bed and pushes him back against the pillows.

 

—

 

James wraps a warm blanket around Jack and tucks him in securely. Jack grabs his wrist and pulls him close. 

James smiles and presses a kiss to his forehead. ‘Give me a minute, Jack.’ He goes to the cabinet in the outer cabin and sighs at the jumbled mess inside. A quick search reveals a medicine box tucked under several loose sheets of parchment. He returns to Jack with a bottle of quinine. ‘Open up, Jack.’

‘Nasty stuff,’ Jack complains, wrinkling up his nose, but obediently allows James to spoon the medicine into his mouth. ‘Now can I have your arms?’

‘Your wish is my command, Captain,’ James says lightly as he slips into bed behind Jack, spooning his body as Jack wriggles back contentedly into his arms. He pulls the blanket more snugly around Jack, and rests his cheek against Jack’s unnaturally hot one. 

Jack turns over in his arms, slipping a crooked arm around James’s neck to keep their faces together. ‘Talk to me, James.’

James smiles. ‘What do you want me to say?’

‘Anything. Tell me about something that makes you happy.’

‘Something that makes me happy,’ James repeats. ‘Well… I’ll try.’ He props himself up on an elbow, looking down into Jack’s eyes. ‘Once upon a time – ’

‘I love stories that start like that.’ Jack grins, throwing his other arm around James’s neck as well, pulling him even closer. ‘Once upon a time,’ he prompts.

‘Once upon a time… there was a sailor. The sea was his life, and nowhere was he happier than on a ship.’

‘My kind of man,’ Jack grins again, wriggling closer to him. ‘Go on.’

James kisses the tip of Jack’s nose lightly. ‘Well… the sailor was young, and he was fascinated by pirate ships.’

‘Pirate ships, huh?’ Jack raises his eyebrows.

‘Pirate ships,’ James confirms. ‘And there was one ship he had heard a lot about. A ship that many believed was merely a legend. A ship with dark sails which none could subdue, as black and graceful and swift over the ocean as a panther would be on land.’

‘Was she, now,’ Jack murmurs, tracing the outline of James’s lips lazily with a fingertip.

‘She was. The sailor heard tales about her at almost every port he visited, and a yearning grew in his heart to see her for himself. One night, he found himself in a port he had never been to before. Everything there seemed strange to him, even though he had seen stranger things elsewhere. In that port there was a sense of anarchy, people of a culture that valued freedom, and where he felt instantly out of place. He felt there was something inaccessible and magical there, something that would never let him in.’ James breaks off to press his hand to Jack’s neck again, checking on his fever. 

‘Don’t stop, James,’ Jack murmurs, slipping a warm hand inside James’s shirt. 

The hand wanders down James’s chest until it reaches his waistband, and James grasps the errant wrist. ‘Any lower and I _will_ stop.’ The hand immediately moves up again, the fingertips rubbing little circles on his chest, and Jack smiles up at him. 

James’s breath catches as a warm thumb grazes his nipple. 

‘I said don’t stop, love.’

‘Right,’ James whispers into the dark hair, cool beads against his cheek. ‘So that first night in the strange new town, the sailor went for a walk along the pier. He kept walking until the white sand gave way to rocks, and he climbed them until they got too steep and he could go no further. He sat down and looked out at the ocean in front of him, feeling more at home. Then he heard a rushing sound about his ears, and it seemed to him as if the wind was changing to welcome an even greater force.’ 

‘And then he saw her, riding the waves like a queen, cleaving her way through the waters like she was gliding in glass slippers over a red carpet. It was a dark, moonless night, and the only thing he could clearly see were her sails, outlined against the waves like black silk rippling in the wind. Long had he imagined setting eyes on her, and it had always seemed to him that she would seem ghostly, like something out of a dream. But this ship was wonderfully real even in the darkness, a piece of magic made flesh and bone.’

James sighs softly and lifts his head, a thumb caressing Jack’s lips. ‘He saw that the ship was coming in to port, and hurried down to the harbour. But she wasn’t there. It seemed as if she had vanished somewhere between those rocks and the port.’  

Jack pushes his hands up into James’s hair to grip his head. ‘Kingston?’ he asks, a strange light in his eyes. James nods. ‘ _That_ night?’

‘That night,’ James says, and Jack’s mouth covers his to steal his breath away. James gives in with a soft moan as Jack’s fingers tighten in his hair, and a wiry leg throws itself over both his own to hold him down as his mouth is plundered in the most delicious way by the warm mouth moving over it, a writhing tongue dipping deep inside and caressing until he squeezes his eyes shut and whimpers with longing. 

The ferocity of Jack’s kiss finally relents and he buries his face in the pillow, a fit of coughing overtaking him. James’s hand rubs his back soothingly. ‘I’m sorry, Jack, I shouldn’t have let us get carried away.’ He disengages himself from Jack’s arms and fetches him a glass of water.

‘How could I not, when you beguile me with such tales?’ Jack groans overdramatically, taking the glass and draining it. ‘Hm. I think it’s been decades since I drank this stuff.’ He peeks at James through half-lowered eyelids, giving him his best flirtatious glance. ‘Don’t s’pose you’d let me take a few swigs of my real medicine?’

James smiles. ‘Is Captain Jack Sparrow asking a Navy man for permission to drink his beloved rum?’

‘No, he’s asking his James.’ 

James laughs helplessly, holding Jack close. ‘Sleep for a while, and I promise I’ll wake you up with warm rum punch.’

‘Like t’sound of that,’ Jack murmurs sleepily into the crook of James’s arm. ‘Like ‘t’sound of your voice. Magic voice.’ His words become slurred with sleepiness, but he keeps murmuring. ‘Love t’sound of your voice,’ he corrects himself as his head droops against James’s shoulder. ‘Everything about you, James. Every… little… bloody…’ 

James rocks him gently, holding him as Jack sinks into sleep.  
 

—

   
‘Well, well.’ Clarke’s eyes – his own eyes – look sneeringly at James as he steps out into the outer cabin. ‘Trying to get into the Captain’s good books, are we? Or did you manage to get into his body as well?’

‘Don’t be crass,’ James snaps, sinking into Jack’s chair. He takes a swig of Jack’s rum, trying to register the odd sensation of watching his own body lounging against Jack’s table. ‘You shouldn’t be in here, anyway.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t resist taking a look at the Captain’s most interesting collection of books. Who would have thought a bedraggled reprobate like him actually knows how to read?’ He gestures with the open book in his hand, which James recognises as the _Mutus Liber_. ‘Or that he would have such priceless treasures.’ 

James bites back his annoyance. ‘Keep your hands off his books.’

‘He knows, doesn’t he?’ Clarke says, eyeing him thoughtfully.

‘He knows. So keep your hands off him as well,’ James says sharply.

‘How?’ Clarke says wonderingly. ‘I have all your memories. How in the world did you convince him?’

‘I didn’t have to.’ James takes another swig of rum, the taste of it so temptingly like the taste of Jack that he loses himself in it for a moment, unmindful of Clarke’s presence.

‘James, James.’ Clarke shakes his head. ‘You may not believe me when I say this, but I have nothing whatsoever against you and your pirate captain. If you want my advice, take him and leave before we reach the end. I would hate for something… unfortunate… to happen to either of you.’

‘Thank you for your concern,’ James says dryly, getting to his feet. He glances at the closed door leading into Jack’s bedroom. ‘Don’t even think of setting foot in there.’ 

Clarke sniggers softly and buries his nose in the book again as James leaves.

He makes his way down to the galley, where Anamaria is having an animated conversation with his lieutenants. Both men shake his hand enthusiastically, grinning, and Anamaria smiles at him. ‘How’s our stubborn Cap’n?’

‘Sound asleep,’ James assures her, and she smirks. 

‘Really have him wrapped ‘round your lil finger, don’t you?’

‘No more than he has me around his,’ James smiles, glancing at Groves and Gillette. Groves smiles at him, his arm around Andrew’s shoulders, and James grins. 

‘How did you manage to get Zima to allow you on board the _Pearl_ , sir?’ Gillette asks. 

‘Told him I need to check with Tia about the spell,’ James says, and moves to the stove to make the promised punch.  
 

 

—

   
Jack wakes in semi-darkness, his body bathed in sweat, and grins at the pillow he is clutching. He stays in bed for a while, hugging the pillow and listening to the soft swish of the water against the _Pearl_ ’s hull, remembering James’s story and the warm richness of the voice that still seems to resonate in the quiet cabin. 

His eyes fall on two neatly corked bottles on his bedside table, and he picks up the small, folded piece of paper under them. The note is brief, written in a firm, elegant hand. 

_Don’t even thinking of touching these until you’ve eaten something._

_I implore you, stay in bed tonight._

_J._

Jack grins and folds the note carefully away inside his shirt, picks up one of the bottles and ventures out on deck. Gibbs is at the helm, seemingly engaged in a deeply involved discussion with Mr Cotton’s parrot, and he does not interrupt.


End file.
